Don't Forget About Me: The Heartbreak of Youth
by DawnRed
Summary: The 4th grade P.S. 118 gang is no longer a tight-knit group, having drifted apart over the years. However, in the wake of a tragedy, the now high schoolers must comfort their guilt and insecurities. Dealing with life, love, school, and the trails of youth just got much harder. Can they find their way back to each other? Can they find the strength to be true to themselves? HS Fic!
1. Prologue

**Trigger warning: Dark subject material. Mentions of suicide. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold or any of its characters. **

* * *

"Thank you for meeting with me today. My name is Dr. Bliss."

"I don't know why I'm even here. I didn't see anything. I wasn't even at school that day! I was stuck in Aspen with my family. We couldn't get a flight back until the day after." Rhonda huffs, crossing her legs and arms with poise.

"But you did know the _victim_. Yes?"

Rhonda's stare turns cold, "I don't associate with geeks, nerds, burners, or losers. So, no. I didn't _know_ _him_. Now if you have any more questions feel free to contact my lawyer. I'm off to class." Rhonda stands and storms out of the room before Dr. Bliss can insist she stay.

The child psychologist lets out a deep sigh.

_Today is going to be a long day. _

* * *

"Boy howdy, so it's true? A shirk really is talking to everyone?" Sid gasps, dropping his weight on the couch. "I heard the kids over at H.S. 119 are calling us all nut jobs."

"The term is clinical psychologist. And no one is at this school is a "_nut job", _Mr. Gifaldi."

Sid shrugs his shoulder, "Well, maybe not everyone. But, you know, I'm guessing _he_ was."

"Mr. Barlett's mental state is not up for discussion; regardless, we can't assume we know anything about what was going on in his head. However, he is the reason I am here today. I am talking with everyone, starting with the junior class as they would have more contact with Mr. Barlett himself."

"I didn't see nothing. I was late to school that morning and by the time I got here, there were cops and ambulances outside. I bailed on school for the rest of the day."

"But you did know him, right? Mr. Barlett, I mean."

Sid looks down, "No. I didn't know him."

"Are you sure? You shared many classes with him since elementary school."

Sid shakes his head, "You think I'm lying? That kid was quiet. Like I said, I didn't know him! And what's with the integration? Am I in trouble or something?" Sid stands as his paranoia gets the better of him, "I have to get out of here."

"Mr. Gifaldi!" Dr. Bliss yells out as Sid walks out. "_Damn,_" She whispers under her breath.

* * *

A knock at the door. "Dr. Pliss? Am I in the right place?" An Asian boy questions.

"It's Bliss. Come in. You must be Park Kwon?"

"Yes, that's me." Park sits in the chair across from her, looking uncomfortable.

"Your first time here, I presume." Dr. Bliss states, gesturing to the principle's room.

"Yeah."

"Well, you have nothing to worry about. I'm meeting with everyone."

Parks nods, "I heard you're looking for who's responsible, you know for, " he makes a hanging gesture.

"No, Mr. Kwon. That's not what I'm here to do. I specialize in child and trauma psychology and I'm meeting with students to make sure they're alright. To talk about any negative feelings this incident has brought up."

"Oh…then can I leave? No offense or anything but I'm missing a quiz in English right now and if I don't get it done now, I'll have to take it during my elective and I need band to practice for my piano recital this weekend."

"Seems like you've got a lot going on. Must be stressful."

Park frowns, "I'm not stressed. Just focused. I like school. I like playing the piano, and frankly, I didn't really know the guy so…"

Dr. Bliss sighs and gestures to the door, "If you must. I don't want to keep you from your studies, but my door is always open."

"Gotcha', "Park smiles before heading out. His smile does little to reassure Dr. Bliss.

* * *

"Lila Sawyer, is it?" Dr. Bliss asks.

The petite redhead in front of her nods her head. "Yes, ma'am. It's oh so nice to meet you, but, um, if you don't mind me asking, why am I here?"

"Ms. Sawyer, a horrible tragedy has befallen this school. I'm speaking with every student to counsel them and help them heal through this troubling time. I'm starting with the junior class and those who potentially knew Mr. Barlett. Students who could be hurt the most from this horrible incident."

"Oh. I see. It was a horrible, senseless tragedy, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Yes, it was. How do you feel about that?"

"Sad, I suppose." Lila pauses, thinking. "Confused. I just don't know why anyone would do something so…so awful."

"The human mind is a complex thing. Unfortunately, we may never know what was going on in Mr. Barlett's mind, but I can do my best to help others and prevent this from happening again."

"Oh, alright. But I don't know what that has to do with me."

"Well, like you shared. This tragedy has brought forth some negative feelings."

"I feel bad for his family, honestly I do. but I'm…okay."

"Okay? You don't sound it."

"I will be. I mean it's not like I was very close _friends_ with him. Not really. I mean we shared some classes." Lila's voice catches.

"Since elementary school, if I'm not mistaken," Dr. Bliss adds.

Lila nods "Yeah…yeah, I think" her eyes glisten. She looks down, her long hair concealing her face. A lone tear falls. "I'm sorry. I'm not feeling very well, I think I'm gonna go. Is it okay if I go?"

Dr. Bliss leans closer, "I'm here to help. You can be honest with me."

Lila takes a deep breath and looks up, her eyes slightly watery but with a smile on her face. You almost couldn't tell she was close to tears a few moments ago. "No, it's okay. I think it's something I ate. Or maybe I need more sleep but thank you. If I have a problem you'll be the first to know. Now, is it okay if I leave?" Lila pleads, her eyes wide.

Dr. Bliss nods, a bit perturbed by Lila's quick turn of emotions. She watches the redhead leave, not quite believing her sweet lies.

* * *

A tall girl with curly, dark brown hair walks in taking a seat across from Dr. Bliss.

"Hello, Katrinka. I'm Dr. Bliss. I'm—"

"I know. Everyone does. Rumor spread that the school brought in a shrink to talk to us."

"Clinical psychologist, but yes. Rumor is correct. I'm here to asses the mental health of all the students."

"_Riiiiggghhhht_." Katrinka smirks, "The school's got bad PR now, right? And you want to make sure no one," She drags her thumb across her throat.

"That's not how I would put it."

"Right. Sure. Well, let me save you the trouble because trust me, I'm not thinking about doing that anytime soon—or ever! Duh." Katrinka bounces her leg, " So, can I go now?"

"You seem in a hurry."

"Yeah, I got PE next. So I got to hurry and change."

Dr. Bliss hums, "I'm sure your teacher will understand if you're a few minutes late."

"I guess, but I don't like being late. So am I good here or what?"

Dr. Bliss internally sighs but nonetheless nods and watches the tall girl rush out of the room. Dr. Bliss frowns, she is quite convinced that Katrinka is hiding something.

* * *

A bronze girl with dark, curly blond hair sits opposite of Dr. Bliss. She came in five minutes ago and aside from introducing herself, she's remained quiet. She fidgets, twirling a golden lock around her finger. She bites her lip, lost in thought. Dr. Bliss knows the girl has something to say but is having trouble getting the words out.

"Nadine, it's alright. This is a safe space. Anything you say will be kept confidential; just between us."

Nadine hesitates before asking, "You already met with Rhonda, right?"

Dr. Bliss nods her head, "Rhonda Wellington Lloyd? Yes, I believe so. Why do you ask?"

Nadine huffs, "I bet she called him a geek, right?"

"I'm not at liberty to share what Rhonda and I spoke about."

Nadine rolls her eyes, "She totally called him a geek. I bet she thinks he…deserved it or something."

"Let's not toss accusations. Furthermore, let's focus more on _you_ and less on Rhonda. How do you feel about all this? It can't be easy losing a classmate in such a way."

Nadine shrugs, "I don't know. I mean, yes. I can't believe something like this happened. In this city. In this school. It's mind-boggling." Nadine sighs, "He was a geek. He was a loner. But he didn't deserve this and I just wish… I wish…" She starts to tear up. Dr. Bliss reaches across to give her a tissue.

"It's okay. Take your time."

Nadine cries silently then takes a big deep breath, calming herself down, "I just…" She trails off. She remains quiet for the remainder of their time together. When the time is up Nadine quietly thanks her and exits the room. Nadine is the only student that stayed for the entirety of their session together and yet Dr. Bliss feels like she did nothing to help the poor girl.

* * *

"Harold Berman. You have quite an impressive resume."

"Huh?" The burly boy questions. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I've heard great things about you. You're an excellent linebacker."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I am, huh? Thanks but I'd be nothing without the team."

"That's awfully humble of you to say. I'm sure you are special all on your own."

Harold shrugs, "I guess. So you gonna question me now or something?"

"Question you? Mr. Berman, Harold, let me be perfectly clear. This isn't an interrogation. You aren't in any trouble. I'm meeting with students to assess their mental states, not to accuse them of anything. However, I was informed that you were among one of the first students to witness the _incident _in person."

Harold snorts, "Incident?" He lets out a sigh, "Yeah, I was there when they opened the gym doors if that's what you're asking. We were supposed to have a morning meeting with the Coach out on the football field, but he never showed so we went looking for him at the gym and man were things crazy." He let out a deep sigh "People think we were in there you know."

"In the gym?"

Harold nods, "Yeah, but before, you know _before_." Harold shrugs, "I don't know."

"Are saying that other students are perhaps suggesting that you and the rest of the football team were somehow responsible?"

"That's what they say anyway. But I swear we had nothing to do with it. Nothing!"

"I believe you. Doctor's have ruled the injuries self-inflicted."

Harold relaxes a bit, "Good. That'll shut people up."

"Does it bother you? What other people think?"

"About this? Hell yeah! What a shitty thing to do to a person and I mean, come on! They think someone could do _that_ to another person. It's crazy!"

"Bullying does tend to get out hand and in many cases has resulted in such grave matters."

"I wasn't bullying him!"

"I didn't say you were."

"You implied it!"

"No. You inferred it. Regardless, I'm not here to place blame, I just want to assess your mental state and help you process what happened. What you saw is very traumatizing."

Harold stiffens, "I guess, but I don't want to talk about it."

"Harold I know it's a hard thing to process but you'll need to eventually, and this is a safe space. You can talk to me."

Harold crosses his arms and looks away with a frown. They sit in silence for a few minutes. Harold seems uncomfortable with the silence and finally breaks the quiet with a question, "They tell you who went in first? To the gym, I mean. Do you know who opened the doors?"

"Yes, I know. I also know she didn't take it well and you were the only one that was able to drag her away. I'm sure she is very grateful to you."

Harold snorts, "Yeah, well…You've talked to her yet?"

"Not yet, but I'm sure when we do we'll have a lengthy discussion."

"Yeah, well, when _she_ talks then so will I." The bell rings. "I've got to get to class."

Harold slams the door on his way out.

Dr. Bliss lets out a deep sigh.

* * *

A red-headed boy enters the room and then proceeds to trip over the edge of the rug and falls inches away from the couch. Dr. Bliss jumps up in worry.

"I'm okay," He groans.

"Are you alright, Mr…."

"Horowitz. Eugene Horowitz. You can call me Eugene." The boy stands up and then falls onto the couch. "It's nice to me you, um…"

"I'm Dr. Bliss. I'm a child psychologist. I specialize in trauma and I'm here today evaluating the student body."

"Right. That makes sense given what just happened."

"My thoughts exactly. Alright, Eugene how about we start with you sharing what you were doing that day? Were you there? When the gym doors were opened?"

Eugene shakes his head, "No. I was in the library. I'd forgotten a book at home and I wanted to review before my quiz."

"A quiz? On the first day back?"

Eugene fidgets, "I'm in AP English. It's a year-long class and we had to read _The Catcher in the Rye_ over the Christmas break."

"Why not just go ask your teacher? I'm sure he would have lent you an extra book."

Eugene shrugs and avoids eye contact, "Mr. Stern is kind of intense. I try to avoid him when I can."

"It's interesting that you say that because," Dr. Bliss looks down at an open manilla folder, reading over her notes, "according to Mr. Stern you two are quite close. He's your drama teacher as well, correct?"

Eugene starts to sweat and fidget some more. If Dr. Bliss didn't think he was hiding something before she does so now.

Eugene nods, "I'm in the drama club after school."

"Mr. Stern has mentioned that he's noticed some odd behavior from you. Tardiness, unexplained bruises, declined attention and performance in school."

"I'm a klutz, everyone knows that and AP English is a lot harder than I thought it would be."

"Eugene, you can be honest with me. Nothing you share with me will leave this room. It will be confidential."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Eugene, is there something going on? Problems at home? Problems with other peers or classmates?"

"It's like I said, I'm a klutz. Besides what's with all the questions I thought you were calling in kids to talk about what happened in the gym?"

"That is why I'm here. This tragic incident has been known to trigger negative thoughts and emotions, not to mention copycats and we will do all that we can to prevent—"

"Wait. Copycats? You don't think…oh my God! That's why I'm here, isn't it? You guys think I'm crazy. You don't think I'd actually do something like that, do you? I would never!"

"Eugene, that is not what I am implying—"

"You know what? I've got friends, alright. There are people who care about me—my family! I talk to people. I mean I'm not the most popular guy but just because I'm a geek doesn't mean I'd—If he talked to me I would have stopped him."

"Are you saying you were friends with Mr. Barlett? With Brian?"

"No. He didn't have any friends." Eugene mutters, "But I could have been…I mean, I was friends with him… once."

"Would you like to talk about that? Your past friendship? What happened?"

Eugene shakes his head. "I don't want to talk. If it's okay with you, can I leave? I'd rather talk to my _friends_."

"You're free to leave but I highly encourage you to stay and talk this through." Before Dr. Bliss has even finished her sentence Eugene has gotten up and left the room. She hears a crash outside the door and a mumbled, "I'm okay."

Dr. Bliss doesn't believe him to be okay at all.

* * *

A knock at the door.

"Come in." Dr. Bliss announces.

A girl with straight, light-brown hair enters the room. The girl smells slightly of hemp but Dr. Bliss attributes the smell to her hemp-based clothing and not to actual marijuana usage. Although, given the young girl's hippy vibe, who knows.

"Hello." The girl greets, "My name is Sheena."

"Hi, I wasn't expecting any students right now. It's lunch, isn't it?"

"Yes it is, but I heard we could come in at any time, right?"

"Of course, as long as there isn't already someone in here. Please sit."

Sheena sits and her calm mood is replaced with a glare.

"Is everything alright, Sheena?"

"No, Dr. Bliss it's not. Pardon my french, but this fucking sucks."

"It's alright, Sheena. This is a free and safe space. I'm sure this incident has been hard to deal with."

"No! I mean, yes, that's horrible; horrible and ugly and I'm sorry it happened but I mean where do you get off accusing _my_ _boyfriend_ of being a copycat? Eugene is perfectly healthy!"

"Eugene? Eugene Horowitz? Eugene is your boyfriend?"

"Yes! Why? You don't believe me?" Her face reddens "Eugene has been my boyfriend for the last four years. He's adorkable, sweet, kind, and a very happy boy and just one session with you and he's upset and locked himself in the dressing room behind the auditorium."

"I'm sorry that happened, but as is often the case with therapy, there are emotions that are hard to deal with and can be distressing. It seems Eugene is in the process of mourning a friend."

Sheena's glare melts away, "Mourning? Friend? Is that what he told you?"

"I can't share what we discussed, I'm just explaining to you what your boyfriend might be going through. What you might be going through."

"Please." Sheena huffs.

"So it seems you're not bothered by what happened?"

"Of course it bothers me. I'm not heartless, but I mean, we weren't friends. Eugene and I weren't friends with…whatever, I just came to tell you to stay out of our business." Sheena stands, "If you'll excuse me I have to get back to my lunch."

Sheena storms out but takes extra care not to close the door too hard. There is definitely some repressed aggression there. Still, Dr. Bliss finds it curious that when Eugene listed the people who care for him he didn't bother to mention his girlfriend.

* * *

"Sup." The student greets her with an almost disturbing sense of ease given the tragic event that just happened.

"Hello, Mr. Gammelthrope. It's good to see you again." Of course, Dr. Bliss is all too familiar with Curly's eccentricities.

"Please, Mr. Gammethrope is my father, at least I think he is. Call me, Curly. It's good to see you too Dr. Fine. I can honestly say I missed seeing your pretty face. Dr. Powell is nowhere near as pretty as you, or fit either if you catch my drift." Curly winks, holding out his hands to indicate a large potbelly.

"Now, now, Curly, those are exactly the kinds of comments that got you switched to a different therapist. I assume you are still attending regular sessions."

"Yeah, not that I got a choice. Mom is still making me go. Not that I see why. If anyone in this damn school needed to see a shirk it was that lunatic, bastard Br—"

"Curly, I'll ask you to have some respect for your fellow classmate. What happened to him is a tragedy. Please have some decorum."

Curly groans, "I don't get why everyone is making such a big deal about this! I mean, yeah, is it fucked up? Totally! But it's not like it's all that surprising."

"What do you mean?" Dr. Bliss leans forward with intrigue.

"I mean, take me, for example, you never know what I'm going to do, right? Hell, I don't even know what I'm going to do half the time but some people, it's like you can see what they're thinkin'. You can look at a person and see how they'll turn out years from now. This is just one of those things that was doomed to happen. Once a lost cause always a lost cause. "

Dr. Bliss frowns not liking Curly's implications "Did you see Brian before…well…"

"I saw him around a few times, yeah. Never looked too happy but that's just the sort of guy he is—was. Unhappy. But last time I saw him, he was acting crazy, like high on some kinda somthin' crazy."

"He was doing drugs?"

Curly shrugs, "I don't know. Could be. Do you know how many kids in this school do drugs?"

Dr. Bliss raises an eyebrow, "Oh? How many?"

"Errr…forget I said that. Look, that's all I know. Take it or leave. Now we done here 'cuz I've got plans I need to carry out."

"Sure, that doesn't sound suspicious." Dr. Bliss remarks sarcastically, "Curly, I didn't call you in here to grill you for answers. I'm here to help students through this troubling time. You two were friends. I'm sure that must have stirred up some unpleasant feelings. Not to mention you were one of the students to witness the incident in person, correct?"

"No, we weren't. Guys like us don't do friends. And I was in there for like a second okay cuz it was buck crazy and somebody shoved me outside, blocking my view. I swear I didn't see much…I swear…." Curly has that crazed far-off look in his eye that Dr. Bliss is all too familiar with.

Curly shakes his head, "Whatever. Look as much as I _love_ talking about my feelings—not—I do have my own therapist and I'd hate for Dr. Powell to think I was cheating on him. I only came in here to throw you a bone. Everyone knows the school board is looking for an excuse to pin this on someone, so maybe whoever gave _Brian_ those uppers gave him too many downers and that led to his _unfortunate_ accident. That decorum enough for ya'." Curly snorts and stalks out of the office.

Dr. Bliss makes a mental note to contact Dr. Powell to make sure Curly attends his next session.

* * *

"Hello Mr. Peterson. I'm Dr. Bliss."

"It's nice to make your acquaintance, ma'am. You can go ahead and call my Stinky, everyone does. "

"Alright Stinky, I'm sure you heard by now about why I am here. Let me start off by saying that I'm not looking to place blame on anyone I just want to help students through this difficult time. Unfortunately, I've been informed that you were one of the students that were, err, first on the scene."

"You mean when Helga opened the gym doors? Yeah, I was there. I was trying to get into the boy's locker room. I'd forgotten my gym bag in there over the break and I hadn't cleaned my uniform. I was hoping I could use the washin' machines before practice after school. I was early and I didn't understand why the doors were locked. The gym teacher told me to head back but then the whole hallway got crowded and things got crazy. I wasn't even that close to the doors when they opened, course seein' as I'm so tall I had a pretty clear view of the whole thing."

"I'm sure that it must have been hard to see a fellow classmate like that."

Stinky nods his head, "Yeah, it was a hard pill to swallow. I didn't even believe it at first. I just thought it was a dummy or something. You know, the ones the football players use? Then I saw Helga being dragged out kickin' and screaming. That's when I knew it wasn't no joke. Still…it all feels unreal somehow."

"And how are you coping?"

Stinky shrugs, "I don't know. To be honest, I'm not really feeling anything right now."

"That is common after such traumatic events. What you are experiencing is shock. Were you checked out by the paramedics?"

"Yeah, but they said I was fine, physically speaking. I don't know. It just seems impossible that something like this would happen and right under our noses too."

"Typically, there are warning signs. However, some signs are small and hard to miss, but things like these don't just happen. It builds and builds until the person feels like there is no way out. I'm trained to spot those warning signs and to help other students who may be feeling the same."

"Then it's a shame that they didn't bring you in earlier."

"I agree."

They sit together in silent somberness for a few moments. Dr. Bliss doesn't pry, instead choosing to observe Mr. Peterson. He's still but you can almost physically feel him thinking. After a long time, he finally looks up from his lap and says, "I knew him. We were friends, _once_."

Before Dr. Bliss can further the conversation the bell rings and Stinky gets up and leaves.

* * *

A tan, well-dressed boy walks in.

"Hello, you must be Lorenzo Lopez, correct? I'm Dr. Bliss, please sit—"

Before Dr. Bliss can finish her greeting the boy interrupts, "I can't stay. I only came in to tell you that my family attorney has suggested I not agree to a session and to contact him if you seek punishment." Lorenzo hands her a card, "I know my rights."

"Oh, well, there will be no need for legal action. These sessions are not mandatory but are highly suggested. You may be suffering from some negative thoughts and emotions that you may not be aware of or equipped to handle."

"The principle has not been advertising it like that. He says everyone must attend or they'll be put in detention, not to mention a mark on their permanent record."

Dr. Bliss notes the Harvard emblem on Lorenzo's book bag, "Harvard? I imagine a mark on your record would make getting in difficult. I can understand your concern."

"Yes. Now I'll just be go—"

"You know, if you wanted to avoid having a mark on your record, you could have just agreed to a session. Most students leave early anyway. You don't even have to share anything. I'd just like to know how you're handling the events of —"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Bliss. I really shouldn't be here. Just please let the principle know I didn't agree to a session. My parents wouldn't be too happy if I did."

Lorenzo rushes out before Dr. Bliss can convince him to stay. It's a rather odd approach his parents have in the face of a traumatic tragedy but not uncommon. Most parents want to sweep everything wrong under the rug in a vain attempt to keep their children innocent and naive. It's a bad approach.

A very bad approach.

Dr. Bliss makes a note to contact Lorenzo's parents.

* * *

The principal walks in.

"Hey, last-minute change. Your next patient, Iggy MacNeille has gone home. Stomach bug."

"Oh, that's unfortunate. Wasn't he the student found behind the bleachers?"

"Yeah, he wouldn't say what he was doing there either. Haven't gotten a word from him since. I was really hoping you could talk to him. Get him to open up."

"I suppose that will have to wait. I can have him go to my office. When he's well, of course."

The principle nods, "Very well. In the meantime, here is your next patient."

A brunet boy with sunglasses on walks in. "Patient? I'm not a patient, right?"

"No. Don't think about it so formally. We're just here to talk Mr um…."

"Percy Peabody but everyone calls me Peapod kid or just Peapod."

"Peapod kid," Dr. Bliss smiles, "I remember you. I visited your fourth-grade class once. If I remember correctly Brian was in your class."

Peapod shrugs, "He might've been. Can't say I really remember him."

It's hard to read him with his dark shades on, "I find it hard to believe that they let you wear sunglasses in school."

"They're prescriptions." Peapod responds, "I have sensitive eyes." He rubs his hands over his knees, patting them in an odd rhythm. "Hey, is it true you're here looking for someone to blame?"

"There is no one to blame for this."

Peapod snorts, "I'm sure he felt the same way. Unless the kid really was crazy, someone pushed him over the edge. I bet that's why no one is talking."

"That's a pretty roundabout way of saying you may be experiencing some guilt."

"I'm not _guilty_. I didn't do anything to him. Wait, did someone say something?"

"What would they say? Are you aware of something that may have influenced Mr. Barlett's actions?"

"Of course not." The tapping on his knees grows more erratic, a clear sign of anxiety. Anxiety about lying or perhaps repressed guilt, Dr. Bliss isn't too sure. "Damn, Curly. He said he told you something about who did it."

"Peapod. There is no _"who did it"_ no one did this to Mr. Barlett. Do you understand? This was his own decision."

Peapod looks down. It's very difficult to read him but it appears as if a realization hits him. As if the severity of the situation has just dawned on him. His stiffns a bit then stands up. "I'm sorry. I need to go talk to someone. Um, thanks." He exits the room, leaving Dr. Bliss feeling confused.

"That boy knows something." She mumbles to herself.

* * *

"This sucks. I don't know why I'm here." Gerald pouts.

"Gerald, please. Understand, you're not under scrutiny. I just want to asses your state of mind, help you through this difficult time and with any negative thoughts or emotions you may be experiencing."

"That's a load of bull. You're sticking you're nose where it don't belong. Why do you _even_ want to know, anyway?" The tall boy sinks into his seat.

"I would like to help if you'd let me."

"I don't need help. I'm not the one who…you know—I fine."

"You're a basketball player, correct?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I've been informed that many of the students who stormed the gym were athletes. I was wondering if you were one of them."

Gerald shakes his head. "Nah. I mean, I was going in that direction but I got caught up talking to a friend."

Dr. Bliss hums, "That's good to hear. Speaking of friends. Did you personally know Mr. Barlett?"

"No. I didn't even know his last name _was_ Barlett."

"Brian, then. Did you know him? Even a small conversation? It's plausible given you are in the same grade. It may make this mourning period more difficult if you've interacted with him in some way. Many students today have been feeling guilty that they might have missed something."

"Listen, lady, my great aunt died when I was eight. She was a cool lady and I missed her like hell when she died. _This_. This isn't mourning. You can't mourn a guy you barely knew."

"So you did know him?"

"Better than you did," Gerald snorts. "Whatever I'm out of here."

Before he can leave Dr. Bliss shouts, "This session isn't about him. It's about helping you get through anything you may be struggling even if doesn't directly tie in with Brian."

Gerald pauses at the door. Hand on the handle. His shoulders sag. "No one called him Brian," is the last thing he says before heading out.

Suppressed emotions and guilt seem to be a common theme for the day Dr. Bliss notices.

* * *

"When I passed him in the halls I always said hi. Perhaps not every time, it's very plausible that I might have not seen him. As you can see, I'm not a very tall girl and when the hallways get crowded it's hard to make out people. I saw him once in a while in the library. That's where I tutor. I worked with him once but he didn't seem very interested. It's very important that tutors and tutees work well together, so I had him work with another tutor. Gloria. She's very sweet and pretty and…"

The petite Asian girl trials off. Dr. Bliss is concerned given how open she's been thus far in their session. "What is it, Phoebe?"

"Oh, it's nothing." Phoebe looks down at her lap where she fiddles with her fingers, "I just thought maybe he didn't want to be seen with me, I'm a bit of a nerd I suppose. Or maybe I was just not explaining things well enough for him, who knows…I guess I'll never know now."

"I'm sure he appreciated the help." Dr. Bliss reassures. "Do you often associate yourself as a nerd?"

"Well, I have the highest GPA in our class, so I suppose if the shoe fits."

"Labels such a _nerd_ or _geek_ can be very isolating. Even labels with positive connotations can be very limiting."

"Are you saying we were alike in that way? Isolated?"

"I didn't say that. I just meant that it appears the label you use for yourself is not one you seem comfortable with. You are who you are despite what other people think and being studious isn't your only identifier. You are a whole person."

"I understand what you're saying and while it is appreciated I don't see what this has to do with, well, anything. I thought I was called in here to talk about…you know."

"Well yes. That is the reason but we can talk about anything you like."

"Oh, well, I don't really have anything to say and that's all I knew of Brian. If that will be all I would like to leave now."

Dr. Bliss sighs, "You can leave if you want but I encourage you to stop by my office any time you'd like."

Phoebe nods, "Thank you." She scurries out of the room.

* * *

"It was my fault."

Dr. Bliss is momentarily stunned, not expecting such an admission.

"Arnold…"

"No." Arnold interrupts, "**It _is_ _my_ fault**. I saw him. During Christmas break. It was on New year's eve. I was…_busy_. I didn't even realize he was there. I think he was trying to get my attention and…I brushed him off so quickly. I didn't mean to but I had other things I had to do—deal with. I didn't even think about it. I didn't even realize who it was I completely ignored. I didn't realize until a few days later, a day before school started. I tried to call him but he didn't pick up." Arnold lets out a sad sigh, "I was too late by then."

Dr. Bliss reaches forward, "Arnold. This was not your fault. It was no one's fault. Don't blame yourself."

Arnold finally looks up from his lap and looks her square in the eye; anger and grief present in his dark green eyes. "There are nearly two thousand students enrolled at H.S. 118. Not to mention teachers, staff—his family. Someone is to blame. Maybe…maybe we all share a part of the blame. And I've had a few days to think about it and I know, I just _know_ things would have turned out differently if I…if I had_ just talked to him._"

"You don't know that for certain. Ultimately, you can't control people's actions. Thinking that you could have stopped him doesn't do you or anyone any good."

"Do you think you could have stopped him? If you had talked to him?"

"I don't know. I'd like to think I could have helped him through whatever problems he was facing. Regardless, I, nor is anyone else, responsible for his actions."

"It doesn't bother you then? You don't feel guilty that you never got to talk to him?"

Dr. Bliss makes to answer when she is interrupted by the bell, signaling the end of the day.

"Thanks, Dr. Bliss. But I've got to get going. I've got basketball practice."

Dr. Bliss can't think of a response that will get Arnold to stay. He leaves as suddenly as he enters. In all honesty, Dr. Bliss _does_ feel guilty that she couldn't help Brian.

* * *

The last student of the day arrives a good half hour after school lets out. It was scheduled that way as the student in question didn't feel well enough to attend school that day.

"Hello, Helga. It's been a while. I'm very glad to see you."

Helga sits across from the therapist. Her arms wrapped around her bent knees and her hoodie blocking most of her face. Helga snorts, "Yeah. I'm sure we both wish it was for a better reason."

"Technically, any time you come to me is for a distressing reason. I was under the assumption that your lack of visitation these last few years was because you were doing well."

Helga shrugs, "As good as any other brain dead person in this place...maybe, a little better."

"About that, tell me, Helga, what did you feel when you opened the gym doors?"

"Jumping right in, huh? What happened to the days where you let me talk about music and art or something equally distracting?"

"We could play some jump rope to pass the time if you'd like."

Helga chuckles, "No thanks. I outgrew that a long time ago."

A few moments of silence pass before Helga finally gives in, "When I saw the spray paint all over the walls and the lockers I thought it was a prank. Honestly, it was the most exciting thing to ever happen in this place and then I heard they were trying to cover something up in the gym and I just _had_ to see it. I thought it must have been some epic prank or maybe someone had sprayed painted something that meant something—something that mattered."

"Like political street art?"

Helga shrugs, "I don't. Maybe. Honestly, I was lookin' for an excuse to ditch homeroom. I wasn't really excepting to see anything other than like a giant dick pained on the side of the gym."

"And what did you see?"

"You're really gonna make me say it?" Helga moans.

"I wasn't there, besides I think you need to say it out loud."

"It wasn't a giant dick painted on the wall. It was…words. It read…_Don't forget about me._"

"Do those words mean anything to you?"

"It's a stupid tag line from a dumb 80's movie or song…or something."

"There's more you aren't telling me."

Helga shakes her head and burrows deeper into her giant hoodie. Dr. Bliss gives her time and says nothing. She knows Helga, knows she'll talk only when she's ready. Helga's legs begin to shake, her anxiety getting the better of her. Finally, she gives in and with a feral groan rips off her hoodie. "You want more, fine! The words weren't in spray paint. It was blood. BLOOD! But it was more than blood— more than just words. It was a curse he placed on all of us so that none of us would ever forget. He made it so we would feel horrible and guilty about what he did, TO HIMSELF! **It's like he's a damn ghost, breathing over all our necks and he's never going to leave us the hell alone!**"

Dr. Bliss waits patiently. Knowing Helga isn't done.

"It's unfair! So unfair! He's so fucking selfish! I mean why did he—couldn't he just wait? It's 4 years! One and a half for us! I mean, it would have gotten better! It would have been better!" Helga pants.

Dr. Bliss can see Helga begin to settle down as she gets all her anger out. Helga uses anger as a shield and once that's stripped away the real emotions start to show.

"I'm sure it was heartbreaking to see a friend like that; to lose a friend in such a horrible way."

A tear slowly rolls down Helga's face. She sniffs and looks away, "He was hanging, blood dripping from his wrists. It was slow, deliberate. He must have thought this out for days, weeks." Helga takes in a shaky breath "I just don't get it."

"What don't you understand?"

Helga looks up trying to will the tears back into her eyes. She turns back to Dr. Bliss a fury in her eyes that hides the guilt and sadness. "I just…" Helga trails off, the fury leaving her body. Making her small and much younger than her years.

"I don't understand how Brainy could kill himself," Helga says in a small voice.

They sit in silence for a while.

Dr. Bliss doesn't know what drove Brian "Brainy" Barlett to commit suicide, but she aims to find out and she swears to prevent any student from doing the same, because as tragic as what Brainy did is, he unleashed something among the students of H.S. 118. Something dark. Something these children aren't equipped to handle and Dr. Bliss is seriously concerned that if she doesn't do anything about it, more students will think about slicing their wrists open.

* * *

** Author's Note**

I know! I know!

I have other fics I need to update. But I could _not_ let this idea go. I know! I tried! I need to feed the beast and I wasn't even going to post this, but well...

Anyway, if you're interested in the story and want me to post more let me know! I already have most of the next two chapters written out, and I have the whole story outlined already. Basically, this story is going to be a dramatized high school fic, kinda like a teen tv show, except hopefully a teensy bit more realistic. But yeah, expect lots of drama, twists, and turns, and multiple pairings (cuz teens date a lot) and also some dark subject matter so be forwarned.

And regarding my other stories, I am not abandoning them, but they're not coming out how I want so I keep scrapping the next few chapters. So, long story short, I'll update my stories when their good and ready and not a moment before.

Until next time!


	2. Chapter 1

**Past**

**The Summer Before 7th Grade**

Rhonda is throwing a party.

Rhonda found any excuse to throw parties whenever she could, but well, even Arnold had to admit this was a special occasion.

"7th grade, man. 7th grade! We'll be 7th graders! Can you believe it?" Gerald had been enthusiastically gushing about becoming 7th graders for the past week. Never mind that they only just graduated from P.S. 118 yesterday. "We'll be top dogs, man."

"Technically speaking, won't we be the youngest class at Hillwood Middle School?"

"Arnold, Arnold, Arnold," Gerald tsks, "You're not seeing the bigger picture, man. We're gonna be teenagers! No more kids stuff."

"I don't know, Gerald. I think I'll miss the kid's stuff."

"Whatever you say, Arnold" Gerald sighs. "Personally, I'm looking forward to the grown-up stuff."

"Yeah? Like what, taxes?" Arnold jokes. Gerald playful shoves him as they walk up Rhonda's long, elaborate driveway.

"Like, for one, girls. Grown-up girls." Gerald says with a swagger. "No more training bras."

Arnold scrunches up his nose. As a hopeless romantic, Arnold can't say the thought of girls and being in grown-up relationships with girls hasn't crossed his mind—it totally has( puberty is so weird)—but the way Gerald talks about it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

"It's nice of Rhonda to throw this graduation party for everyone," Arnold says as they knock on the front door.

"Word." Gerald agrees, "After years of being in the same class with everybody, I feel like I could go to war with any of those freaks in there." Gerald thumbs at the front door as it opens to reveal the hostess.

"Finally!" Rhonda greets, "I've been waiting for everyone to show."

"Sorry Rhonda," Arnold apologizes, "Grandma accidentally let Abner out and I had to go catch him."

Gerald snorts, "One of these days your grandma is gonna make you lose more than just your pet pig."

Arnold looks at his best friend, a question written all over his face when Rhonda pulls them both inside. The music is blaring and kids from their class are all dancing around. Some are hanging out by the food table and some others are playing what looks to be a very intense card game.

"No fair! You totally cheated, Iggy." Sid cries throwing his cards into the pile.

Iggy laughs as he collects his pile of winnings. "You can't cheat at bullshit! Stop being such a sore loser."

"Darn, that was my last fudge bar," moans Stinky.

"No way! I'm not losing three candy bars to you." Harold places another two bars into the pile, "Double or nothing!"

"You're on!"

"Go ahead and grab a plate," Rhonda tells the newly arrived boys as she walks to the middle of the room and shuts off the music. "Ahem! Attention, please! Now that everyone is here I would like to proceed with the main event of the night. If everyone would please make your way to the outdoor screening."

"Ah! But Rhonda, we want to keep partying!" Peapod kid yells out.

"Now, now. There will be plenty of dancing left for the evening, but as the hostess I demand everyone go outside. The feature film is about to start. And the first one is mandatory viewing."

"What feature film are you talking about, princess?" Helga grunts from near the food table.

"Why Mean Girls, of course. It's the first of the movie marathon I have planned for tonight. It's an important and insightful look to what our future lives as middle and high schoolers will look like." Rhonda beams.

"More like a cliche view into our futures," Helga mumbles to herself, loud enough for only Arnold and Phoebe to hear her.

"That actually seems like a cool idea, Rhonda." Gerald praises making Rhonda preen like a peacock at the compliment. "Let's go see all the fun_ grown-up_ stuff we got waiting for us" Gerald slaps Arnold's back, dragging him outside with everyone else.

Out in the backyard, a large screen and projector are already set up, with the opening scene of Mean Girls on display. Blankets and pillows are scattered all around.

"Leave it to Princess to pick the movie Mean Girls. Talk about self-fulfilling prophecy." Helga sits with Phoebe on the blanket directly in front of Arnold and Gerald.

"You're one to talk, Pataki." Gerald teases. Helga scowls over her shoulder and growls, "Not like this film is gonna paint you in a good light either, Jock Boy."

"Hate the game not the player, babe." Gerald winks in Phoebe's direction making the petite girl giggle.

Helga frowns at both of them and pulls Phoebe's attention away from the flirtatious boy. The rosy blush on the girl's cheeks still visible from where Arnold and Gerald are sitting. Arnold eyes his best friend warily. Gerald hasn't talked about his crush on Phoebe, but even Arnold can see how much he fancies their Asian friend. Both of them flirt with each other well enough that Arnold is confused as to why the two aren't dating yet. The one time Arnold brought up the topic of Gerald liking Phoebe, Gerald freaked out so much he ended up making a fool of himself chasing after an older girl. That was over a year ago, and Gerald finally stopped when the girl graduated.

Arnold doesn't get it. Why would his best friend lie about the person he likes? Why would anyone hide their feelings like that?

"What up, man? You're looking at me funny." Geralds asks, popping a finger sandwich into his mouth.

Arnold shrugs, "Didn't know you liked chick flicks so much. Why you so excited to see Mean Girls?"

Gerald rolls his eyes, "First, it's not a chick flick. It's a high school flick. Second, it's got a lot of hot girls in it. What's not to like?"

Arnold rolls his eyes and settles in to watch the movie. It's a good movie, funny. But, to be honest, all this mention of girl world has Arnold beyond confused. Girls are confusing, why can't it be as simple as I like you, let's be together or I don't like you, but still be nice to each other. Is that so hard?

"I'm gonna get a drink," Arnold tells Gerald as he stands.

"Bring back some food," Geralds answers, his eyes glued to the screen.

Arnold is balancing a newly opened bottle of coke as he pours his drink when someone bumps into him from behind causing him to spill all over his shirt and shoes.

"Geez, Arnoldo. Clumsy much." Helga smirks as she grabs a bag of popcorn.

Arnold sighs, "Helga. Always a pleasure."

Helga chuckles as Arnold attempts to clean himself. "Hey, I'm just preparing you, Football Head. Not like I'm gonna be the only bully in middle school, ya' know."

"Perhaps, but you'll definitely be the most memorable."

Helga chokes and turns away, her ponytail swaying and blocking her face. She only just started wearing her hair like this, in a single ponytail instead of two. Her hair looks thicker, bouncier, and oddly familiar. Weird. Where has he seen it before?

"I like your hair, Helga." Arnold complements earnestly.

Helga tosses a few pieces of popcorn at him, "Whatever. You don't have to be so annoyingly nice all the time."

"I mean it. It's a nice change, although I'm glad you kept the bow. It would be weird seeing you without it."

Helga frowns at him before looking away, "Yeah, well. It was time for a change." She looks back at where they were sitting. "Un-_fucking_-believable." She snorts, "Can you believe this?"

Arnold looks in her direction and spots Phoebe and Gerald nested together on the same blanket. "About time," he cheers.

"No way!" Helga protests, "You don't really think _this_ is a good idea, do you? They are _so wrong_ for each other."

"They like each other. What's so wrong about that?"

"Doi, football head! They're complete opposites. Not to mention Phoebe is too good for ol' tall-hair boy."

Arnold shakes his head, "Whatever you say, Helga."

"Damn, right." Helga marches back to the blankets and forcefully sits between Phoebe and Gerald. Arnold joins them.

Hours go by. High school movie after high school movie. Popcorn thrown everywhere. Music blaring in the background with the occasional dancing. At one point Harold tries to start a food fight but is firmly stopped by Rhonda. Another hour goes by and Curly goes missing, much to the anticipation (annoyance if you ask Rhonda) of everyone waiting to see what he'll do.

The last movie of the night is an old 80's movie. _The Breakfast Club_. A bit outdated but with an awesome soundtrack.

"Neo maxi zoom dweebie!" Helga howls, "Ha! Maybe I should start calling you that football head. Heck, it works for you too Geraldo!" Gerald rolls his eyes, throwing popcorn at her. Phoebe laughs and Helga retaliates by dumping the whole bag of popcorn onto Gerald's head. "Have fun taking those out, tall-hair boy!" This spurs all four to have their own mini food fight which is ended when Rhonda death glares them all into stopping. They do but a split second later Curly finally makes his appearance squirting everyone with a water gun.

"My dress!" Rhonda screeches.

"Hey! What gives!" Harold angrily jumps up. "I'm gonna pound you!"

"That poor twisted freak." Helga grabs Phoebe's sweater and covers herself.

"Um, Helga. That's mine."

"I know."

"This bites!" Stinky yells.

"Wait," SId interrupts going after Harold who is chasing a manic Curly around the backyard. "This isn't water. It's—"

"Rootbeer!" Eugene sings getting splashed in the face.

The backyard erupts into chaos. The food fight Rhonda so desperately tried to avoid becomes reality as Harold starts chucking popcorn and sandwiches, and pretty much anything he can get his hands on at Curly.

"That sly fox!" Gerald exclaims a bit impressed "How is Curly dodging all that?"

Some pudding ends up flying past Curly and lading on Iggy who then starts throwing things at both Harold and Curly only to miss and hit Nadine and Rhonda instead. Safe to say, once the hostess gets hit all bets are off. Arnold and Gerald basically sacrifice the girls and use them as human shields in order to get to safety and avoid getting hit by any more flying food.

"I'll get you for this, geek bait!" Helga yells at the pair.

"I don't care what she says. I ain't getting any more food in my hair." Gerald confesses.

Arnold laughs, "Aww, man. Look at this, Gerald. I'm gonna miss this, the kid's stuff."

"What?" Gerald laughs, "Arnold, my man. Everyday is gonna be like today. Well, maybe not exactly like today. Let's be real ain't no one want pudding in their hair. But we're young. We can do whatever we want!"

Arnold doesn't look too sure. "I sure hope so…I sure hope so." Arnold's words are drawn out by the end credits of the movie. The end credit music blaring as everyone runs around making a mess of the lavish backyard.

'_Don't you, forget about me_

_Don't, don't, don't, don't_

_Don't you, forget about me_

_As you walk on by_

_Will you call my name?_

_As you walk on by_

_Will you call my name?_

_When you walk away_

_Or will you walk away?_

_Will you walk on by?_

_Come on, call my name_

_Will you call my name?'_

* * *

**Present**

**Junior Year Spring Semester**

To say Arnold had a _bad morning_ would be an understatement.

First, his alarm failed him once more for what has to be the 100th time in the last year. If Gerald hadn't gotten his license last summer, Arnold would still be showing up late for homeroom. Usually, his grandpa would wake him whenever he was late to rise but over the years he's been having a harder and harder time getting up the stairs. Nowadays, his grandpa doesn't even make an attempt.

Second, today is _"officially" _the first day back to school as the school gave everyone an extra week off. A week that went by too fast what with _everything_ going on and Arnold was, to be frank, a mess. A disoriented and unprepared mess.

Arnold awakens to the blaring of Gerald's horn. A second later his phone buzzes with a message from Gerald to _'Get his ass up and hurry!'_ Arnold jumps up but gets tangled in his sheets and falls flat on his face. With a groan, Arnold gets up, gets dressed, and finger combs his hair. However, his speedy dressing is wasted on the ungodly amount of time he spends looking for his backpack, which he finds about 5 or 7 minutes later but without his notebooks in it.

Ugh! He'll just have to borrow from Gerald. Again.

Arnold runs down the hallway to the bathroom, bumping into Oscar. A trail of steam following the older man as he exits the bathroom. Unfortunately; or fortunately in Arnold's case as he doesn't need to shower. Oscar has left the bathroom a completely and disgusting mess. _Again_. Arnold grabs his toothbrush ignoring the uncomfortable humid feeling and the discarded clothes on the floor. To his dismay, there is no toothpaste and barely any mouthwash left. Filling the mouthwash halfway with water Arnold chugs, swishes, and spits. Half-way presettable Arnold dashes downstairs swiping a pop tart for breakfast. Arnold is nearly out the door when he bumps into his grandma.

"Kimba!" His grandma greets as she stirs her mixing bowl "Sit! I'll have breakfast ready in a jiffy!"

"Thanks, grandma but I'm running late for school."

"Oh, nonsense. It's Christmas! They can't make you go to school on Christmas—it's unAmerican!"

"Grandma, Christmas was a few weeks ago. It's January now."

"Poppycock!" His grandma exclaims with her mixing spoon raised in the air. Arnold backs away to avoid the splatter but his pet pig, Abner, is hit instead. Startled, the pig sequels and runs out the kitchen bumping into Gertie and causing her to lose her balance. Arnold reaches for her. He catches his grandma but is splashed with the contents of the mixing bowl.

"Crap," Arnold mutters trying to clean his shirt. "Are you alright, Grandma?"

Gertie nods. "Don't worry Kimba. That will come right out! Hand it over and I'll wash it real good for ya'" His grandma says, grabbing a stick of butter instead of the soap in the kitchen sink.

Arnold sighs, "No thanks, grandma. I'm already late and Gerald is waiting for me. I'll just button up my flannel. Remember, Suzie is doing the cooking now so please stay out of the kitchen. Bye, love you!" Arnold hurries out the door to Gerald's persistent horn blaring all the while buttoning his shit and keeping the pop tart in his mouth.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty. Or should I say sleeping mess cuz' boy do you look it." Gerald greets as Arnold gets in the car.

"Thanks, Gerald. Real confidence builder."

Gerald shrugs as he drives away from the boarding house, "Hey man I call it like I see it. I don't get why you don't just use the alarm on your phone."

Arnold shrugs, "Habit I guess. I'm used to the potato clock." Truth is Arnold dropped his phone months ago. The screen is fine (fortunately) but he messed up the audio and now his phone doesn't make a sound. It still vibrates, so a least there's that, but it's not enough to wake Arnold up. Arnold hasn't been able to get a new one. Luckily, no one calls anymore so no one has noticed.

Gerald snorts, "That old thing? It hardly works. Arnold, why don't you just get rid of the thing and get yourself a real alarm clock? That potato clock has outlived its usefulness. It's time to let it go."

Arnold frowns, "Just because something is old doesn't mean it doesn't work anymore, Gerald. The potato clock isn't useless. I just need to fix it is all."

"Geeze, Arnold. I was just saying, no need to get all upset."

Arnold sighs and leans against the passenger door. "I know. I'm sorry. I just had a rough morning."

"Is it your grandpa?" Gerald asks all playfulness leaving his voice.

Arnold shakes his head, "He's good. Sleeping in. He does that a lot now, but...you know." Arnold shrugs, being purposely vague. "It was my grandma. She was in one of her moods and spilled breakfast all over me."

Gerald sniffs, "Yeah, I wasn't going to say anything but man you reek. What was she making? Did she get into the compost again?"

"Pancakes I think, but" Arnold grabs his shirt and sniffs, "I think she used the expired milk. I just bought a new gallon yesterday but I think she forgot to throw the old one out. I'll need to remind Susize to clean out the fridge."

Gerald tsks, "Always a circus, huh?"

Arnold huffs, "Yeah. Real barrel of fun."

A song comes on the radio, "That's my jam!" Gerald turns it up. Arnold sighs, relieved he doesn't have to carry on a conversation. It's been exhausting lately, talking that is. Especially with Gerald. Gerald seems to want to talk about anything and everything except the _huge_ elephant in the room. It's like he doesn't care. The thought makes Arnold feel guilty because _of course_ Gerald cares. People mourn in their own way and denial, avoidance, whatever you want to call this _thing_ that Gerald is (isn't) doing is just Gerald's way.

Arnold just wishes he had someone to talk to, about Brainy. About _everything_.

The boys arrive at school to a much less full parking lot.

"Man, if I didn't have a watch I'd think we were early." Gerald gets out the car and surveys the small parking lot which is being occupied by a few cars, unusual this late in the morning. "Where is everybody? Did we get another week off?"

"I don't think so. This last week we had off was enough of a stretch. I don't think even Rhonda could have weaseled out another week. Not that we really even _needed_ the last one."

"Speak for yourself, man. A vacation from school is always welcomed in my book. But I didn't know it was Rhonda who made that happen. I thought it was a rumor."

"It is. School had to shut down due to staffing changes. Plus, I heard a lot of students left school. That must be why the parking lot is so empty."

"It's like everybody thinks this place is haunted. I don't get what everyone is so afraid of."

"Isn't it?" Arnold asks as they reach their lockers. "This place feels pretty haunted to me." Arnold points to their lockers. "They repainted the lockers, but I still remember what Brainy spray painted. In fact, the place where the spray paint was is a darker shade than the rest." Arnold runs his hand across the darker area on his locker, "It's like it's still here. Like he's still here."

Gerald slams his locker shut, "But he's not. And everyone needs to get over it."

The boys stare at each other. The tension thick between them.

"Honey!" A tiny blond girl steps between them and wraps her arms around Gerald.

"Baby!" Gerald greets his girlfriend with a kiss.

Arnold feels an arm snake around his shoulders. "Hey Handsome." greets a sultry voice. "Camile." Arnold turns and kisses his tall girlfriend. She breaks the kiss with a smile. "Here," She says showing him a piece of paper, " A little birdie told me you'd be late, again, so I made sure to grab this for you."

"Is this the new schedule?" Camile nods, "Thanks. You're the best." Camile smiles, her dark amber eyes glowing.

"I made sure to grabs yours too." Ivy, Gerald's girlfriend, chirps. "But we're not gonna be in most of the same classes. We don't even have homeroom together!"

"Cheer up, baby. You know I always make time for you."

"Promise," Ivy flirts.

"Cross my heart," Gerald shares a kiss with Ivy.

Arnold and Camile share a look. Camile rolls her eyes, "Come on, Ivy. We've got to get to class. We'll see you boys at lunch." Camile grabs the smaller girl and pulls her away. "In the meantime, I'd suggest you find a new shirt, Handsome."

Arnold frowns, "It's not that noticeable, is it?"

Gerald gives him a look, "Boy..." and shakes his head. "Come on, we don't want another tardy."

* * *

It was the last week of January and the students of H.S. 118 were just starting or rather restarting their spring semester. With the tragedy that befell the school two weeks ago and the investigation that followed—witch trails many called them— the school board decided it was wise to give the students an additional week off for mental health/ grief purposes. Of course, concerned parents and media scrutiny had a lot to do with that decision.

Rhonda smirks, apparently, some very important people were tipped off that the school investigation was being handled rather poorly, putting extra stress on its student body. Thus, Rhonda was able to secure yet another week of winter vacation. Unfortunate that it didn't come before her family left Aspen.

"Leave it to Brainy to ruin things," Rhonda mutters bitterly under her breath as she shuts her locker door. With her view unobstructed by metal Rhonda catches sight of a short redhead running her way.

"Rhonda! Please tell me your homeroom got switched too—no, please tell me we still have the same homeroom!"

Rhonda lazily hands over her new schedule. "Yes!" Lila bounces. "I was ever so surprised when I got the news that my homeroom was switched." Lila frets. "I'm so glad we'll be together. Wait! Have you seen Katrinka? Is she with us?"

"With you on what?" Katrinka questions having snuck up on the girls.

Lila bounces away from Rhonda and reaches for Katrinka's hands, "Did your homeroom get switched too?"

Kat pulls out her rumpled schedule from her back pocket, "I think so. I wasn't even going to get my schedule until the principle announced students schedules have changed." Lila reaches for the crumpled paper to examine that the three cheer pals will indeed have the same homeroom. "Yeah, what is that even about? Also, have you noticed that instead of a study period we have something called peer solutions? I don't even know what that is."

"Tell me about it. Mrs. Norris was basically the reason I was able to hit snooze like three times every morning. She was so lax about tardiness." Katrinka adds as she leans against her closed locker.

Rhonda huffs, "Girls! Get. A. Clue." she demands, "Can't you see what's going on here? This is just another stupid consequence of the whole Brainy incident."

"Is that what we're calling it?" Katrinka mumbles.

"I don't see how our homeroom change has anything to do with that," Lila questions.

"Isn't it suspicious that they would move all of us? Print out all-new schedules for the whole student body."

"I assumed you had something to do with that. I mean it's the reason we're in all the same classes," says Kat, hinting at Rhonda's connections via her parents' wealth.

"Trust me, I had nothing to do with this. Mrs. Norris allowed me an extra twenty minutes of beauty sleep. I bet the homeroom reassignments is due to the dropped enrollment. Even some of the faulty has quit. Ugh, this is so unfair! It's like we're being punished for something we didn't even do."

"I heard the faulty that quit was forced to leave. You know, on a count of the _"overwhelming negligence"_ Kat quotes the media sensation revolving around H.S. 118. "I heard the principle is hanging on by a thread—no pun intended."

Lila makes a face, "I hope not."

"Do you think our new class is with the shrink?" Lila asks, "I heard rumors that she's thinking of holding group sessions or something. Or maybe they're using her to fill in for some of the teachers that quit."

Rhonda hums as she walks towards their new homeroom. Kat and Lila following behind. "I can't believe she's still here. After a week of holding sessions, you'd think she'd give us a pass or something."

"Unless she thinks someone is insane enough to copy Brainy. Has to be the reason she's still here." Katrinka adds.

"Maybe she's not done talking to everyone," Lila adds. "It's a pretty big school."

"Regardless, I don't like that she's here. Butting into everyone's business. Principle Greeves would not stop yelling at me about walking out of our so-called session. Talking about being disrespectful. Thankfully, daddy was able to get him off my back, but I've heard Dr. Bliss is putting in requests for students to meet at her office after school. Ugh! It's like the God damn Salem witch trials." Rhonda rants as they enter their new homeroom.

"Wow, Salem witch trials. I'm surprised you know what that is." Katrinka jokes as they sit in the center of the room.

"Um, guys. Are you sure this is the right room?" Lila asks, gesturing with her head to the front of the room where a small, Asian girl sits.

"Is that Phoebe?" Katrinka whispers.

Lila nods, "Yeah, I waved to her as we got in."

"Guess we're in the smart class now." Rhonda jokes.

Homeroom classrooms are specifically designed to group all the high performing students together and all the lower performing students together. Athletes are grouped together, the art crowd together, the band geeks all have homeroom in the band room, and all the forgettable average people are sprinkled somewhere in between. It's a perfect system if you ask Rhonda.

"Please, as if you would ever be in the smart class." Nadine taunts from a few seats ahead, catching the cheerleaders' attention.

Rhonda narrows her eyes, "Oh look. It's bug girl. I didn't even see you there. Not surprising. I've heard bug meat stunts your growth."

Nadine rolls her eyes "Real original, Rhonda."

"You know I considered the idea of Phoebe being a part of the popular homeroom class but now that you're here I guess that can't be so."

"Maybe you're just average. Like the rest of us."

"So, you agree? You're average." Rhonda smirks.

Nadine opens her mouth to argue back when she's interrupted by a bulky figure walking past her. Harold sits in a seat next to Rhonda, greeting his girlfriend with a kiss. The cheerleaders turn their attention toward Harold and talk amongst themselves, forgetting all about Nadine. Nadine seethes, feeling equals parts furious and embarrassed by their indifference. She turns away with a pout.

A few students walk in, no one overly remarkable. The average people, Rhonda thinks. The glue that holds society together. Peapod kid walks in and takes a seat in the back; cool kid, Lorenzo; boring but rich so semi-part of the cool crowd. Some athletes walk in and Rhonda is feeling secure that the social hierarchy is staying intact when Sheena and her merry band of eco-warriors and show tune freaks walk in.

"What the hell is going on?" Rhonda mutters under her breath. "Can you believe this?" She turns towards Harold to see him turn away, face red and brows furrowed. What the hell has gotten into him?

"Maybe that's why they moved classes around," Kat speculates. "To, you know, diversify on a count of what happened to Brainy."

Before Rhonda can answer the slightest catch of Harold's breath gets her attention. She turns to see him looking at the newest and—judging by the packed classroom—the last student arrival. A tall, frumpy blond who hunches and marches to the last seat available.

Rhonda stares at Harold waiting to see if he'll say something. As of late and annoyingly usual Harold says nothing. There are many things Harold is but cool is not one of them. Popular Harold is, but keeping a calm, quiet facade is not something her loud, passionate, short-sighted beau is capable of, that is until this whole Brainy nonsense occurred.

"Talk to her lately?" A pointed stare directed at the large boy. Harold responds with a quick shake of his head and focuses his stare to the front of the class.

"Oh my…." Lila whispers, "Have you guys noticed who's in here?"

Kat nods her head, "Talk about a blast from the past."

Rhonda frowns and begins to look around. There's a few familiar faces, well more than a few—a lot. Not that she hasn't shared classes with these people, she has, but _these_ exact people? Not since 6th…5th…4th grade.

"Hello, Hello!" Welcomes a cheery voice. A bald, middle-aged man strides to the front of the classroom. The room is taken aback by the surprising but strikingly familiar figure. The man slaps his hands enthusiastically, "My, isn't this a special class?"

* * *

It's like the universe got a hold of her diary and is taking great joy in making her worse nightmares into motherfucking reality. First, the blood-bath that was **Dark Monday**. _RIP Brainy_. Second, Olga. More of her than is tolerable thanks to **Dark Monday**. Third, the cornflower hair that she is forced to stare at due to the person sitting in front of her. No, she did not plan to sit behind him. This is what she gets for being late. Fourth, is the physical regression she feels when staring upon the face of her elementary school teacher; whom she swore she would never _ever_ see again when she graduated P.S. 118.

"_Criminy_, you have got to be kidding me. Mr. Simmons?"

Murmurs erupt around the classroom. Growing louder as people take notice that the strangers sitting around them are more familiar than they all care to admit. "I've entered a portal to hell," Helga whispers to herself.

"It sure is surprising, I'll give you that."

Helga turns toward the voice, surprised someone is (might) be talking to her. She is taken aback by the sight of two brilliant green eyes. Arnold, still as friendly as ever, is talking to her for the first time in years! A smile on his face as if they're friends and talk on a regular basis. They don't. They aren't. Helga is slightly disturbed by this fact and her face must reflect such emotion as Arnold's cheeks redden. "Um, Helga?"

Not one to be caught off guard so easily, Helga is ready with a sarcastic, semi-rude remark when Mr. Simmons calls out, "Alright class, settle down! Class! CLASS!"

The murmurs stop.

"Respectfully, what the _fuck_ Mr. Simmons?!" A student calls out from the back.

"Please, Curly. I know you're all much older but please try to remember that this is a classroom and we are at school. Save the sailor talk for after school."

"Excuse me, Mr. Simmons? I think I speak for all of us, when I say that —I can't believe I'm actually saying this—agree with Curly. What are you doing here?"

"Excellent question, Rhonda. I'm here to teach you. As your new homeroom and social studies teacher. As some of you might be aware of, there have been some staffing changes here at H.S. 118 and they were in need of teachers. So here I am. I've always wanted to teach high school and well, no time like the present."

"And the fact that our homeroom looks like your old 4th-grade class is just what? A coincidence?" Rhonda questions with a harsh edge.

"Geeze, Rhonda. What did you expect? For all of us to suddenly disappear." Nadine glares at Rhonda.

"Some people just can't seem to let go of the past. Sad, really." Rhonda retorts in an icy tone.

"Hmm, yes. Well, as Rhonda has so astutely pointed out this class does bear some resemblance to my once—yours— 4th-grade classroom. It's not exact, however, there are some new and different faces."

"And some faces that aren't here at all," Helga adds, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. An uncomfortable silence takes over. "You know…" Helga starts after a beat of silence too long, " because of all the students that left." Helga can feel the stares on her. She turns back around feeling a surprising bout of shyness.

_Stupid_.

Arnold catches her eyesight and gives her a small smile. A patronizing smile. She really wants to punch that stupid smile off his face. Mr. Simmons' cough gathers everyone's attention once more. "Yes, unfortunately, there are some faces no longer among us today. That is the primary reason I am here. I missed my students and I wanted to do everything in my power to help you all as best I could. Theses are the most transformative years of your lives, hard enough as it is without adding such tragic events as Brainy's passing. "

"With all due respect, Mr. Simmons." Sheena starts from the front of the classroom, "We don't need to be fixed, we're not broken."

Mr. Simmons opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by Principle's Greeves voice over the PA system.

_"Welcome back students! I hope you all enjoyed your holiday vacations and made great use of the extra week we had off. I know it's been a rough start of the new year. I'd like to remind everyone that counseling services are still available to all students who wish to make use of them. I'd also like to thank, on behalf of the Barlett family, all the students who attended Brian Barlett's memorial service last week and paid their respects. Again, counseling services are still available to all who are struggling with the passing of Brain Barlett. Now, onto more housekeeping business. There seems to be some confusion today about schedules. We sent out a notice last week as well as several phone calls that the schedules have been changed. This is to accommodate the changes in staffing as well as changes in student enrollment. So please, if you haven't picked up your schedule yet, do so as soon a possible. All schedules may be picked up in the auditorium. And on one last note, I'd like to remind everyone that mental health is just as important as physical health, so make sure to care for it as you would a cold or a broken bone."_

The announcement abruptly ends after that pathetic attempt at advice or comfort. Helga can't really tell which Principle Greeves was aiming for. "Criminy," She mutters.

"Right, well." Mr. Simmons begins. "Seeing as how we have only a few minutes left. I'd appreciate if you would all take this time to fill in this ice breaker sheet." He walks up and down rows handing out a single sheet of paper. "It's been so long since I've seen any of you and I would like to know what all of you have been up to. What wonderful young adults you are all turning into." Mr. Simmons hands Helga the last handout with a cheery grin. Helga takes the paper, unamused.

First question. Name? Simple enough.

Second question; List any sports, clubs, or school actives you participate in. Easy. _None_.

Third question; What is your favorite subject at school?_ Lunch, duh._

Fourth question; What is your favorite hobby outside of school? _Writing_. No, wait. Helga crosses it off and writes _sleeping_ instead.

Fifth question; Do you want to attend college? Huh, maybe. Probably. Most likely if it means leaving Hillwood behind. She writes _yes_ because she knows that's what all teachers want to read. If yes, what colleges are you thinking of attending?_ Haven't given it much thought,_ Helga writes.

Sixth question; What do you want to do when you grow up? List as many things as you want. _I want to be gone_ is what Helga wants to write but instead writes _employed_.

Seventh question; What is your favorite part about High School? Is it like you imagined? This question makes Helga pause. She never thought about high school before, at least she didn't have any expectations before she was actually in high school. School in general never interested Helga much, it wasn't challenging or interesting enough to even register on her radar.

Helga sneaks a peek at the golden-haired boy in front of her and then glances briefly at the students around her, specifically the rich brunette sitting smack dab in the center of the room (because of course, she'd be sitting there). If Helga is being honest, she did think about it once. A dream about how high school would be. A silly dream that mirrors all high school rom-com flicks. But Helga blames that on the high school movie marathon most everyone in this room was forced to sit through.

Irritated, Helga sighs blowing hair out of her face. She catches sight of the short Asian girl sitting in the front, writing as fast and as neatly as she can. No such thing as a blow-off assignment in Phoebe's world, Helga smirks. She looks back down at the paper and writes _no, high school wasn't at all how she thought it would be_. It's worse. She keeps the last part to herself.

Eighth and final question; list the top five people you spend most of your time with. Strange question. Helga glances back at Phoebe. The petite girl is still writing, probably answering each question with a paragraph. Helga wonders what Phoebe could possibly write for the last question, then feeling bitter decides she doesn't care. Phoebe could spend her time with whoever the hell she wants.

The bell rings. Students are quick to gather their things and leave. Dropping their handouts on Simmons' desk at they exit the classroom.

"It's good to have you back, Mr. Simmons," Arnold says as he hands over his worksheet.

"I'm glad you think so, Arnold. It feels good to be back with all of you."

"Let me know if you need help with anything. H.S. 118 is much bigger than P.S. 118."

"Thank you, Arnold. I'm so happy to see you haven't changed much from the thoughtful person you were in fourth grade."

Arnold blushes, so red that Helga can see it from where she sits. "I don't know about that. Anyway, I've got to get going. It's good seeing you again, Mr. Simmons."

"Likewise," Mr. Simmons nods.

Helga approaches and hands over her worksheet just as Arnold leaves. "It's good to see you too, Helga."

Helga shrugs, "Wish the feeling was mutual." She turns towards the door when Mr. Simmons calls out, "Wait! You didn't answer the last question."

Helga keeps on walking. "Yes, I did."

Mr. Simmons squints, bring the paper closer to his face, "But it's blank."

Helga nods her head, "Yup." She gives him a lazy wave, "Later, Mr. S." She walks away. She doesn't care. Really, she doesn't. But she can almost feel the pitiful look Mr. Simmons must be giving her as she walks away. Whatever. It's only high school. It's not like any of them will ever see each other again when it's all over. Unless you're related or pregnant what's even the point?

She passes Arnold standing at his locker pulling books out. She doesn't expect him to notice her, they haven't had any interactions since 7th grade (excluding the bizarro one-sided conversation that just happened in homeroom). Not that Helga minds; she's gotten used to being invisible. It beats having to scowl or threaten people all day. Arnold turns around just then, his eyes locking on Helga like he knew exactly where to look. Like he knew she was staring. He smiles at her. Helga rolls her eyes and keeps on walking.

Whatever, she doesn't need friends.

* * *

**Author's Note**

Here you go! Chapter two. What did you think? Also, I know there were a lot of perspectives in this chapter (like in the last chapter) but I just want to clarify that this story follows all the kids from the 4th-grade gang and some other characters from the show too.

Also! A big** THANK YOU** to everyone who read the first chapter, reviewed, and/or is following/ favorited the story. Specifically, a big **THANK YOU** to Kryten, HelgaGeraldine, SaliorCC, Ezza, GuestNumber1, and Nep2uune. I hope I got everyone! And as always a big **THANK YOU** to all you anonymous readers. Keep on keeping on.

**Reviewer Acknowledgments **

**Ezza: **I'm glad you liked it! Here is more. I hope you like this too!

**GuestNumber1**: Yes! A lot of dark secrets. And you are correct (spoiler!) someone(s) did push him...hehe. That's all I'll say. And I know Helga was more open than everyone but I did this for two reasons. 1) She is already comfortable with Dr. Bliss so I felt it wasn't that much of a stretch but also 2) it was strictly a to move the plot along and reveal who the "victim" really was.

Nep2uune: I did more! I hope you like! And I like where your mind is going, but it's also a lot more darker. Like I said this is a bit of an over dramatization of high school, not too much. No supernatural sparkly vampires, lol.

Until next time!


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